


"Yes. I always do."

by MindYoBusinessDavid



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, First Kiss, Kissing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 12:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindYoBusinessDavid/pseuds/MindYoBusinessDavid
Summary: Spoilers for 2x06Okay so this kind of got away from me and ended up being a little darker than I expected.Right on the tails of the last episode (2x06) and how I thought it should end, with Macy facing some facts and going to Harry to be there for him for a change.There is some smut as well.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	"Yes. I always do."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this piece really got away from me and is a little darker than I was originally going for but I really like it and hope you do too. 
> 
> If you like to listen to music as you read, I'd listen to Allie Moss - Already Down for the first half and then Insomnia - Efemero for the second half (when Macy drifts asleep). 
> 
> Please leave constructive criticism and all thoughts!

"You did the right thing, Harry."

"Yes.

I always do." 

The words hung in the air, heavy and pained. It lingered in the room for long after he was gone. Macy stood there, watching the bed where he was just sitting, a shadow of his figure imprinted into her brain. His eyes shining in the moonlight, his voice tight and restrained, all of his movements equally defeated and calculated. Not like what's she's used to: eyes shining in the sun and crinkled from laughter, his voice light and airy, all of his movements natural and graceful and awkward. 

Still staring at the bed, Macy replayed the memory again in her head. 

-

"Macy, what was he like?"

"He was bold. 

Selfish. 

Charming." 

Macy averted her gaze. Harry did too. He looked like she had just reached in and ripped his heart from his chest. That's what her words did to him. She wishes she never said it. She wishes even more that it wasn't true. 

"Twisted and tortured by what had happened to him. And you." She gave him an opening, the best she could do anyway, to have the space to talk if he wanted to.  
-  
She couldn't erase his pained expression from her mind. She didn't know if it had been a day or an hour or a minute since he left her room but it felt as if she she had been sitting, defeated, for an eternity. Their lives have been nothing but sadness and loss and anger since James attacked them. She looked in the mirror and her eyes flashed black for a second. 

She wishes she could see Harry smile again, genuinely, without the weight of his doppelganger heavy on his mind. She missed their afternoon lunches, their bonding over baking and cooking, she missed waking up to the smell of coffee knowing that Harry was downstairs. She missed their secret looks and smiles, the world forgotten as they shared secrets and desires and jokes without ever uttering a word. God, that felt like a lifetime ago. 

She began thinking and realized that Harry's life, since they met, had been littered with loss. He was trapped and tortured in Tartarus, he found out he had a son the Elders forced him to leave behind and forget about, he was betrayed by Charity, he realized Fiona was alive after believing her to be dead, and he lost Charity and Fiona. She knew that he had no remorse for them after their actions, but still he lost two people he had loved and were a part of his life. And yet his smiles and warmth and kindness never faltered. 

She remembered even when the evidence was overwhelming, he never believed she could be a murderer. Corrupted. Evil. When she performed the spell to strip Fiona of her immortality, a small part of her- where the darkness hadn't yet infected- heard him calling out, pain and fear contaminating his voice. "NO. Come back to me. Please." She felt him hold her and her darkness threw him across the room. And yet he came back to hold her again, without hesitation. 

She remembered that when she was at her worst, corrupted by the source's power, he still believed in the good in her. She wondered if the part of her that wanted-

Wants. 

She wondered if the part of her that wants James was her darkness reaching out to his. That he, much better than Harry, could understand her. Could understand "why she had to be the one to go without." James' anger was perfectly understandable to her: why did he have to be the one stuck in a bottle, forgotten by the elders. Why did he have to suffer an eternity alone while Harry was able to have a body, a life, a family. Why did James have to live in isolation while Harry had people in his life. How he had Fiona, Charity, Macy, Mel, and Maggie. It wasn't fair. 

Macy sat back in her bed and opened her diary to write down her thoughts. When she opened her diary she saw the sketch she made. At first she thought it was of James, after his first nightly visit, but after staring at it she realized the way she drew the light in his eyes, was exclusive to Harry. 

She loved Galvin, but she had been mourning him since he broke her heart. When he died, it wasn't as painful as she expected. No stranger to loss, she knew how to deal with the pain but truthfully there wasn't much. He sacrificed himself and saved billions. His sacrifice was his choice. 

Harry's sacrifice wasn't. 

The elders stripped a part of him and then erased his memory. 

She lightly traced the sketch with her finger. She took a deep breath and realized what she had to do. 

She walked to Harry's room, knocked, and let herself in after Harry's small voice responded "come in." He was sitting on his bed, three of the buttons on his shirt undone, shoes by the foot of the bed. Like he was getting undressed but stopped because the weight of these menial tasks after killing a part of himself was too much to carry. He glanced up at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. "What do you want?" He asked, softly. He tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes or his heart. 

Macy took two long strides and stood before him. She grabbed his hands in hers, "For us to be together." She put her hand on his chest. "That's what I want." 

His breath shuddered and a memory came flooding back to him. His hand on her chest, pushing her black silk robe off her shoulder, running the tips of his fingers over the newly exposed skin. James, not him. This wasn't his memory. It didn't belong to him. "We can't." He said. 

"But we must. It's our destiny, Harry, can't you feel it?" She put her hand on his face and his eyes closed of their own volition and he leaned into her hand. She stood there, caressing his face. Then she stepped between his legs and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. He hesitated and then tentatively wrapped his arms around her. He slowly relaxed against her, his head leaning on her stomach. He let out a deep sigh. 

"It's okay, Harry. You're not him. He's not you."

"We're two sides of the same coin, Macy." 

"Yes, but just like with you and James, the coin has two distinct and separate sides." She said softly. "Each has a different outcome." She started stroking his hair. 

"But that's the side you want, isn't it? James?" Harry braved. She gently broke them apart to look him in the eyes and gave him a puzzled look. "While you were missing, I went into a mind meld to find out who he was so we could find you. It was in there that I realized the man who tried to kill you and has killed people, was me. A part of me, at least, which is capable of cold blooded murder. That's when I realized I could access a part of him, something inside him through our psychic connection. A ghost of a memory. 

Of you. 

You said 'you seem different, Harry.' and I leaned in- or he did- and said 'I am different. Do you like it?' and you said "yes.'" She looked at him and sadness filled her heart. "You wanted or want James, not me. Never me." 

"I won't deny that a part of me calls to him. A part of me wants him. Maybe it's my darkness, maybe it's a part of myself that I choose to repress. But he was only able to get so close because he looks like you. Because he is you, partly, and any part of you, Harry, is what I want. Anything you're willing to give." She spoke, voice now a whisper- worried that if she spoke louder her voice would crack and so would she. 

He looked at her and held her eyes. She leaned down and kissed him softly. It was tentative, hesitant, painful. She kissed him a little harder and he kissed her back slightly deeper. His hands holding her face while he kissed her, felt so natural. He backed up a little on the bed and grabbed her hips, pulling her on top of her. She straddled him and deepened their kiss. She was trying so desperately to smooth over his cracks and put together his broken pieces. She hoped that's what the kiss said to him. 

Eventually they both had to come up for air. She took the opportunity to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. She sucked on his pulse point. His hands had stilled on her and so she took his left hand and raised it to her breast. She moved his right hand along her hipbone. She could feel him almost vibrating trying to hold back. To temper his desires. To do the right thing. 

"Harry, I know you're holding back. I'm not going to break. Let go. Let go." He stared at her as his chest rapidly rose and fell. Then it was like something inside him gave in and snapped. 

He grabbed her face for a deeper kiss and tugged so they were both on the bed. He flipped them so he was on top. He ground his erection into her, not worried about pretenses or getting her over the edge first. 

He bit at her neck and ripped her shirt open, not at all worried that he ruined it. His hands made quick work of her bra as she helped rip open the buttons of his shirt. Then his hands drifted down and unbuttoned her pants. She helped him shimmy out of them and got to work on his belt and zipper. He stood up to remove his pants, and she suddenly felt so empty. 

He quickly stripped off his boxer briefs and yanked her panties off, unceremoniously. He settled back on top of her, mouth already latching onto hers. She groaned at the feel of his erection against her wet heat. The groan spurred him. And he ground into her a little harder. 

"Harry. Please." She whispered, barely audible. That was all he needed. He guided his cock into her and they both moaned as he filled her up. 

Her curves against his hard angles, him between her legs, felt so natural. Like it was destined. Like every moment in history came together in a specific way so that this very event could happen. 

Then he grabbed her hips and started a fast pace. Normally, he would ensure she came twice already so that she could more easily accommodate him. He would go slowly and ensure she wasn't in pain before he started to fuck her. But not tonight. Tonight was about him being bold. Selfish. Charming. 

Tonight was about him being Harry and taking something he wanted, for once. 

He was pumping into her roughly and quickly and she could barely catch her breath. Each stroke hit a different part of her and she kept whispering his name. Finally the white lights exploded behind her eyelinds. He didn't seem to notice that he had given her the most intense orgasm of her life. 

He kept up his pace and used his hands on her hips to push into him as he pumped into her. He didn't seem to notice that her legs were still shaking and that she could hardly breathe. 

He kept up his pace and she felt a second orgasm coming. She could tell he was close to, if the way his hips were jerking and his pace faltering was any indication. She started fluttering her walls and he groaned. She opened her eyes and she stopped breathing altogether. The look on his face was as dark as she had ever seen it. Not even James wore this expression. She just stared, feeling every moment and every sensation. 

Each stroke felt like water and fire colliding all at once. 

Then she came again, even more intensly than the last, legs shaking and wrapped around his waist as he came after her. 

It felt like a meteor slamming into a planet. 

It felt like felt like immovable object meets unstoppable force. 

It felt like Harry and Macy. 

She was still whispering his name over and over, like a prayer. 

Eventually he pulled out of her warmth and they both groaned at the loss of contact. He rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. After Macy calmed down, she looked at him. His face looked like a war was raging within him, the fight between James and Harry physically manifesting itself in his expression. 

She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. "Harry, stop. You're here. You're alive." She put his hand over her heart. "I'm alive. We're together and no one is hurt. We will get through this, I promise." He looked at her and nodded. She settled higher on the bed and moved him so that his head was leaning on her chest. She started stroking his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him. 

"You are," she paused. "The best of us. Everything about you is pure and untouched and heartfelt. You hold us together. You hold me together. Just go to sleep, Harry. I'll be here when you wake up." Slowly he drifted off to sleep. And soon, she did too. She was no longer afraid to sleep, knowing James could no longer reach her. 

She had never been more wrong. When she slipped into Dreamland, James was there. He looked at her, and she told herself that he was the darkest parts of Harry. But even the dark has a light and the expression she saw on his face truly broke her heart. He stepped closer to her, realizing she wasn't backing up. He walked over and looked at her. "So you made your choice, huh? You're going to choose Harry. Again, I get the short end of the stick." He paused and grabbed her hand in both of his and kissed it lightly. He smiled at her and took a step back. He turned around halfway, and then as if changing his mind, looked at her and asked in the softest voice she'd ever heard, softer than Harry's ever was, "Why do I have to be the one to go without?" She held his gaze. 

"That's how life is sometimes" she paused trying to lessen the blow, "bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. Sometimes there is collateral damage."

"Is that what I am?" His voice was strained. "Is that what I am to you? Collateral damage?" He said, his voice cracking. 

"Yes." And for a second time that night she had to watch the gut wrenching look on his face. His breathing sped up, suddenly very angry. He pulled out a knife. 

"James, don't do this." Macy pleaded. 

"I have to." James said. Macy shut her eyes, disappointed and saddened and with a heavy heart knowing what was about to happen. He launched at her with the knife and she was easily able to get it out of his hands. 

"James, that's enough. Just leave. Try and find a life of your own. Try and find some peace." She begged. 

"I will never have a life and I will never have peace. Neither will you or Harry." He lunged at her and she dug the knife into his abdomen. 

She held him as he started to slip. Blood drenched her hands, leaking into every crevice. "Will you stay with me?" James asked, looking at her like she wasn't the one to hurt him. The question was heavy and weighed down on her. She knew he meant til the end of his life, but she knew he wanted her to stay with him forever. 

"Of course." She sat on the floor and pulled his torso onto her lap. She was caressing his hair, trying to soothe him. He raised a bloody hand to her face and caressed. Her eyes closed and leaned against it, she turned and placed a kiss on his hand. She could see the life and light leave his eyes slowly as he bled out onto her lap. Tears welled in her eyes. 

He laughed, coughing up some blood. "Almost had ya." He said, smiling. And then his hand dropped and his eyes shut. She let out a sob deep from her soul. She too would mourn James' loss, like Harry did. 

As she opened her eyes she looked at Harry, he looked a little pale. Panic rose in her body and her hands felt wet. She looked down and saw the blood staining her hands, knife still in hand. The sheet covering his lower half covered in blood. Harry lay there lifeless and alone. 

"Harry!" She called. She rushed to try and stop the bleeding but it was no use, he was dead. She killed him. She hadn't meant to. She thought she was killing James. She didn't even want to hurt him. Her hands shook and the knife fell from her hands. 

She thought she was being good when she comforted James as he died, not knowing it would mean Harry would have to die scared, alone, and isolated. 

She stared at his lifeless bodies, sunlight no longer sparkling in his eyes. She broke. 

She gasped awake and took in her surroundings. Harry was lying on her chest, still breathing. She looked down and her hands were clean, and so were the sheets. She held onto Harry for dear life, knowing she'd never let go again.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the dose of angst and heavy fics! Drop a comment :)


End file.
